I read somewhere that as we age we loose some of our ability to taste and smell, and to a much greater extent to hear, at least for men. My memory tells me that the first Coca Cola I tasted at the 1940 grand opening of the Coke plant at 39th and Stockton Blvd ignited an almost insatiable desire for more of that exotic beverage that, over the years, has diminished to only an echo of that first unforgettable taste sensation. Tomatoes don't taste as sweet and zesty as they did when picked from the vine in my family's victory garden in 1944, hot from valley heat and eaten on the spot with a shake of salt. And even though I have always been a techno junkie and had to have the best in sound equipment, recorded music also has lost much of its luster.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that as far as sound is concerned, the emotional surge that a full orchestra can pump into an out-of-warranty old man is the same as when I first heard the Sacramento Junior Symphony in the then recently completed Sacramento High School Auditorium in 1941. My older sister played the base violin and let me tag along with her to Saturday orchestra where the young musicians of the city played and auditioned for positions in that prestigious group.

I rediscovered the joy of hearing a live performance of a full orchestra again this summer at the Britt Festival in Jacksonville, Oregon. The festival is held in an open-air amphitheater with a mixture of reserved bench seating and seating on the grass. Patrons are encouraged to bring food and drink and enjoy the evening's entertainment while picnicking under the stars. Rogue valley wines were very visible and enjoyed by many. The acoustics of this venue are superb. During one of the lulls in the music (where the conductor suspends play while the sheet music is turned for the next movement) a cricket, playing his traditional summer evening's lament was clearly heard twenty rows back.

It was like candy for these old ears. From that gathered ensemble I could hear the voice of each instrument; each note clearly formed and its resulting overtones propagating as harmonics into a melodious blend. Although my ears have been exposed to too many turbines and too much rifle fire, the full orchestra was able to over drive my hearing losses with youthful sound.

My bride planned this trip to southern Oregon to beat Sacramento's August heat, and ordered tickets for two concerts, Friday and Saturday nights, where classical music from movies was performed. During what was known as the "golden years" of film, many of the greatest composers of symphonic music were employed by Hollywood to score the latest innovations in cinema, "talkies" the addition of sound. These sound tracks were usually created after the scenes were shot, and the scoring was designed to enhance the visual effect. Once the score was written, the orchestra played as the scenes were flashed on a screen where the conductor and the composer interacted with the visuals until the music complimented the action on the screen. Once recorded, the sound track was laid down on the edge of the film. The method is essentially the same today but now uses more whiz-bang technology.

The most memorable of the two evenings music selections dealt with music composed by Bernard Herrmann whose movie career is book ended by scores for Orson Wells' Citizen Kane (1941) and Taxi Driver (1976) for Martin Scorsese. His work included a ten-year collaboration with Alfred Hitchcock in such films as Vertigo, North by Northwest, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and the classic of classics, Psycho. Prior to each night's program there was a talk about the night's performance. Bruce Crawford, a film historian, NPR contributor, and host of this Britt classical film series gave these thirty-minute talks and shared personal experiences and antidotes relating the works to be performed. Bruce knew Bernard Herrmann personally and shared with us a little known story about Hitchcock ‘s thriller, Psycho.

When Hitchcock pitched the film to the studios they were not interested at all. Hitchcock saw a great story so he financed the film out of his own pocket. After it was shot he asked Bernard to score it and in passing said that he did not want a score for the shower scene. Bernard scored the film as instructed, but as he reviewed the resulting product he decided the knife-wielding scenes had to be scored. The theme developed for the shower scene then influenced the instrumental motif throughout the entire second film score. The film was shot in black and white and Herrmann characterized his second score as also being in black and white. Hitchcock, Bernard Herrmann and his wife, several producers and Janet Leigh, the female lead of the film, attended a private screening of the film scored as ordered by Hitchcock. They sat through the complete screening and when it was over Hitchcock was so disappointed he stated that he would cut it into three serial episodes for his weekly television series Alfred Hitchcock Presents, and considered the movie project a dismal failure.

"Bernie" Herrmann then told Hitchcock that he had a second scoring of the movie the group should see (and hear). The second version of the film was shown from the very beginning and when that shadowy shower scene flashed on the screen, with its screeching, slashing cutting, and piercing violins, Janet Leigh all but passed out. After the showing the mood was upbeat and all those gathered knew that they had a winner in the can. Hitchcock later admitted that his order to not score the killing scenes was "poor direction."

The first selections played after the intermission for Friday's concert were the ten movements of the Psycho Suite; Prelude-The City-The Rainstorm-The Madhouse-The Water-The Swamp-The Stairs-The Knife-The Cellar-Finale. During the intermission all of the instruments and chairs had been removed from the stage except violins, violas, cellos, and base violins, only 41 stringed instruments and players were on that stage when the conductor raised his baton. Although I have seen the movie several times, I never realized that only strings made all that sound. The entire audience was taken on an emotional roller coaster ride as the familiar and classic strains of this unforgettable movie score filled Oregon's balmy night air. Malevolent is the word that comes to mind, as the little hairs stood-up on the backs of our collective necks. The movie and its score are inseparable, and demonstrate how much a movie score can influence the final ambiance of the cinematic art form.